PS 3527 
.14 R7 
1920 
Copy 1 




THEROUNDCLOCK 



THe 1(0 UIS^ CLOCK 



BY 



Beatrice ^ickerson 
drawings by catherine richardson 



??^ 



PRIVATELY PRINTED 
1920 






Cofiyright, 1920, by Beatrice JVickerson ^^ q/ 



^V 



D. B. Updike • The Merrymount Press 



FEB 19 1920 



©G!.Anr>l}7(;4 



A\^ I 



UJ 



I'A^^ENTY-SIX PIECES 

DRESSED FOR MY NIECES 

NEPHEWS AND SONS 

ALL OTHER ONES 

WHO READ THIS BOOK 

OR EVEN LOOK 

INSIDE ITS CASE 

MUST TRY TO READ 

MY ROUND clock's FACE 



THE HOURS 

Tkvelve little merry, whirligig foot-fiages. 

CHARLES LAMB 



THE ROUJ^D CLOCK 

ONE o'clock 

One o'clock 
Is young and hold^ 

Bringing deep sleep 

And frost and cold. 
He holds the reins of night., 
He tells her ivhen to pass 

Beyond our sight. 



[2 ] 



THE HOURS 
TWO o'clock 

Two o' Clock '.9 
A merry felloxu 

Whistling up the road^ 
Wearing green and yelloru 

Like the frog and toad. 
He is ived to folly 

Out there in the cold 
And he ''s fat and jolly 

Fun to scold. 



[3] 



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THREE O CLOCK 
77zree o' Clock '5 

Coming from a hall., 
White she is and stately 
In the hall! 



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THE HOURS 

SIX o'clock 

Six d^ Clock 
Is heaven 

On a summer inorn^ 
Tell it to the ladij^ 

Brave her scorn; 
White she xvas and stately 

In the hall 
I have loved her lately^ 

All the fall. 



[5 ] 



THE ROUKD CLOCK 
TWELVE o'clock 

The -world turns; 

She breathes in peace., 
For this next Hour she desires 

All activity shall cease^ 
The coal is on the jire: 
Millions of xvorkers pause 

And now they use 
One precious hour for the hodys ivants 

Their papers to peruse 
And blessed food., 
One has a chance to make a fiend 

And finds that it '.? relief to talk ag-ain^ 
Another sits and waits until 

Tlie Hour ends. 



[ 6 ] 



FOUR O CLOCK 

A carter sleeps^ 

At his feet 
Lies a child. 
His van is on the heath., 
The night is -wild., 
Twin lambs axvake and bleat - 

The road is steep 

In Ireland! 




THE ROUJVD CLOCK 

FIVE o'clock 

Five o'clock 
Is full of things: 
There ''s fire and tea 
For yon and me. 
In Slimmer it is sad.. 
The ivood thrush sings atfve o^ Clock., 
A cotv-bell ring's beside the rock., 
The boys strayed off to play., 

I am alone to-day. 



[ 8] 



THE HOURS 

SEVEN o'clock 

The children pray; 

I think it is June's longest day — 

TTie lazy Clock has stopped^ 

I smell the scent of new-mown hay. 

Syringa perfumes drop 

And thunder mutters far away — 

One child feels hot 
He xvhispers: '''■ Lightnings will you stay. 
Please xvatch beside my cotP 



[9 ] 



EIGHT O CLOCK 
Heliotrope^ camellias^ gorgeous plates^ 

Damask table linen^ tedious waits 
Stiff -white shirts and collars^ is that cheer f 

Oh^ those endless dinners! 
Feasts of yester-year. 




THE HOURS 
NINE o'clock 

" Tlie moon is round — 
Txvo eijes^ 
A nose^ 
And a mouthP 
He -whispers nonsense^ 

They are silent 
And the ruind is south. 
''Dear is it late P'' 
Eyes seek his face 
But he is gazing into space. 
She says: '^ I fear the turn of fate., 

When -winds are south 
Rain folloxvs drought P 
She shudders., a great hound 
Disturbs the moonlit place. 
''Darling., all we can know 

[ H ] 



THE ROUND CLOCK 

Until we lie beneath the ground 
Is that -we love^ and that 
The moon is round — 
Tivo eyes^ 
A nose^ 
And a mouths 



[ 12 ] 



THE HOURS 
TEN o'clock 

Ahvays at Mother's^ xvhen 

The Clod struck Ten 
She V chase the boys axuay^ 
Sometimes good-byes xuere gay. 

Once Charlie i-an 
And banged the door — 

My grandmother was ill; 
Our best dish fell., 
Broke on the Jloor. 
Nobody spoke., I ivent upstairs., 
I could not sleep 
Or say my prayers.. 

Not even weep. 
The moon was like a yelloxv shell 
Shining across my bed. 

I knew so ivell 

[ 13 ] 



THE ROUJVD CLOCK 

I V sloxvlij rvaste axoay like that 
And grow too old to zvear a hat 
White caps instead. 



[ 14] 



THE HOURS 

ELEVEN o'clock 
Bumping home from the play 

Along the roadxvaij. 
Fine feathers make fine birds ! 
Somehorv they are not gay^ 
Margaret stirred — 
I cannot hear this endless xvay 
We have to go after the play — 
It is too far; 

I hate this stupid car — • 
We ought to live in town 

Like Pa^ 
I ''d be tucked up in bed^ 

Or else instead 
Go out to dance with Brown — 

We might be gay ! 
Not cold and glum after the play 

[ 15 ] 



THE ROUMD CLOCK 

Noiv xvont you live in town? 

Don't frown^ 
I saw you in the lig'ht 

I ''II make a jight 
To go back home to town.'''* 



[ 16 ] 



OTHER POEMS 



ASH WEDNESDAY 

Mortification is vexation 
And Fasting is as bad^ 
The Moveables do puzzle me, 
Shrove Tuesday is quite mad. 



[ 19 ] 



THE R UJVD CL O CK 
THE SCHOOL FOR DAYS 

Septuagesima keeps a school 

And tries to teach the days^ 
The txvo xvho wilhiot learn by rule 

Are Valentine and May. 
The greatest joker ''s April Fool., 

A tease he is and gay; 
They never know xuhere they ''re to sit 

Or when to work and play. 



[20] 



OTHER POEMS 

BIRTHDAY 

/ see a stretch of long' white scmd^ 

It is a warm spring day^ 
Children are romping hand in hand- 

We watch them play. 
A small girl tires of the game 

And breaks axvay — 
She asks a boy: " What is your name 
And when is your birthday?''"' 



[21 ] 



THE ROUKD CLOCK 
DOOMSDAY 

Doomsday is comings 

Croaks old Sue^ 
Because rnoi die of ^''Jiu " 

Like rats. I wonder . . . 
He ''II laug'h to see us run 

And fetch us every one 
That '5 not snowed under. 



[22 ] 



OTHER POEMS 

ALL saints' day 

All Saints' Day is loved by all^ 

It ends the early Fall. 
Our apple trees are picked quite clean; 

Their branches look so tall — 
My eldest boy is ten years old^ 

I xvish he were still small. 



[ 23 ] 



THE ROUJVD CLOCK 

THE VIGILS 

Across the sea^ yet not too high 

To hear the breaking of her waves 
Beneath the glowing morning sky 
Stand all those men and girls 
Who chose for France to die. 
Tliey could not take their youth along 
Of it is made one soul to guard that land 

Promising freedom., food and loving hands 
To greet the worker staring at the opening day 
Which comes to shed God''s blessing over all., they 
say. 



[ 24] 




VALENTINE S DAY 

Here comes old Bishop Valentine^ 
For centuries he 's had good rhymes 

With xvhich Icmi't compete: 
Vll hloxv my verses through the air 
Towards his spirit hovering there 
And lay them at his feet. I 



I 




THE R O U.VD CL O CK 

LORD ROBERTS 
{For Children) 

Children^ remember well 

That grand old man^ he fell 
Back of the xvhining shells. 
They called him '"''Bobs,,'''' 
Frail as he was when the war came,, 

All Europe aflame,, 
He worked on England'' s job. i 

Giving his best to all his men 
Loving them always,, not just now and then. 
Honour to him xvho nobly ran his race 

See his brave face 

Challenging death 

With his last breath 

Making his country safe. 

[ 26 ] 



OTHER POEMS 

A MINE manager's BREAKFAST 

Hoxu the boy ran: 

Yet thinking some^ 
He feels that this has come 
His manhood to arouse^ 
He knows he must be brave 
Or else he tiever can 

His father save. 
Thank God he''s at the house! 
He kicks the stubborn gate 
That tries to make him late. 
His father '* eating there 
Tom grabs his chair 
And gasps .^ then shouts: 
' Father I ''ve seen that 

Bad Jim Clare 
He boasted he xvould get you out 

[ 27 ] 



THE ROUJVD CLOCK 

And shoot. Bexvm-e ! ''"' 
There., there., there . . ." 
His father smiled and spoke 
First reaching up to take his coat; 
His pistol xvas right there 

Beside the chair 
But he preferred to wear 

His coat. ''''My son., 
Toil tvill ?iot come 
To ivatch the fun. 
Remember she '.? upstairs., soon 
Another little one xvill come 
And sleep and ivake and croon 

Within this house. 
Toil are the master here until I come; 
Ton xvould be nothing better than a skunk 
If you that job should funk 
But I xvill come to you again 

[ 28 ] 



OTHER POEMS 

Unless my race is run 

And jinished quite; 
If that is so^ -why then 
Toil ''II just sit tight 
Until it is your turn to go. 
And tell your Ma she '* not to mind 
If I don! t come back from the fun 
I knoxv she ''II feel as tho' 
She had been left behind. 
Good-by my son." 



[ 29 ] 



THE ROUJVD CLOCK 

WHITE CLOVER 
(^ Fragmeiii) 

Through the door into the hall 
Burst the fairest sight of all 
Filling the room -with fragrant smell — 
It xvas a borul of clover 
With its tiny bells. 
Picked in green fields far arvay 

Near the sea., 
Where Aunt lives by Gloucester Bay 
Carried all the xuay 
From Newbury. 
White and fairy-like its bloom 

Next to the curving stair 
Catching the fading light within the room., 
Lost in the dusk 
Of the gloomy square. 

[ 30] 



OTHER POEMS 

CAPE COD 
Here stands a xvood of white oak trees 

Fronting the sea 
Stripped of their splendid glossy leaves 

Bereft of greenery. 
Tet it '5 July., the sun has made 

Whiter the sands., darker the glade., 
^lickening field and tree: 
Only these trunks of white 

End in an opal light 
Of palest rose and lilac grey; 

Colours of May 
Like the rare birth of Spring — 
Alas! she died. To-day 

The Gypsy Moth is King. 



[ 31 ] 



THE ROUKD CLOCK 
THE GOLDEN AGE 

Child^ may you ever strive to hold 

That wondrous gift^ the age of gold 

Herein described^ — soon childhood '' s past ! 

Tlie glitter of its years shall last 

For those so hold and true 

Who seek that distant^ clearer blue 

Lying beyond the dirty grey 

Around us all each sordid day. 



[ 32 ] 




OTHER POEMS 

EAST OF PETERBOROUGH 

Note : " Petcrboro " means Petcrboro, England, in the days 
if Mary and Eli-zahcth. '•'■Peterborough" means Peterbor- 
ough, Neiv Hampshire. Time, the Present. 

Oh., that I xvere at home 
With Jingers free to roam 

Along- the shelves^ I ''d jind a hook 
Small., bound in green.^ and look 
Tivo of the poems up again. 
The years are fed since then., 

Oh., vivid day! 
I read till it got dark., when 
Silent the xvhite snow lay 
Rejected in the mirrors., all 

Three set into the northern ivall 
To brighten twilight's gloom 

And lift the pall 
Of grey December night 

[ 33 ] 



THE ROUKD CLOCK 

"The dusk that steals into the room 
Before the light. 

I read about a village maid 
Who put on cap and bells 
And danced through sun and shade 

From Bath to Wells. 
Who does not long to follow? 
Another song had a refrain 

(^Mary xvas buried in the rain) 
''Cany her dotvn to Peterboro^ 
Ma'am it is tiventy miles axvay^ 
Tou '// 7niss the pageant there to-day 
Right in the streets of Peterborough. 
Tes Nurse., it \s- late and rue must go., 
Here I sit dreaming of the snorv., 
'"''Carry her down to Peterboro .'''' 



[ -^4 ] 



OTHER POEMS 



Where are the jingling bells of May? 
Burials^ ^eens, I miss to-daij^ 
" Carry her down to PeterboroT 



[ 35 ] 



THE ROUKD CLOCK 

NEW year's eve with CLOCKS 

The Clock ticks on and on^ hut then 
A friendly hand has -wound her up 
And he xvill come again 
Raising the key^ her cup. 
She hopes that she ca?i go 

Until he come., however slow 
And so keep true to Time., her master. 
Naught can he wind for thee., 
Ticking along without a key 
Faster and faster 
Toxvards eternity. 
Nor clock nor man her slave can see 
Clearly enough to find the key 
Held by the Master. 



[ 36 ] 



